Integrity Game
by Anotherjaneway
Summary: Johnny inherits a four footed friend and Dr. Brackett gets more than he bargains for on vacation.


This is a text version of the original still airing imaged, music soundtracked story.

Emergency Theater Live, Episode Five

5. Integrity Game Season One- Episode 5 Short summary-  
Johnny inherits a four footed friend and Dr. Brackett gets more than he bargains for on vacation.

****WARNING**** The long summary to come is very story spoiling and will take away plot surprises if you read it now before reading the longer story below it.

Decide now if you want to read this episode's detailed summary before doing so.

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Long Summary-  
Kel Brackett goes on vacation with his parents. Station 51 responds to a racetrack and treats several horse collided jockeys. Johnny adopts one of the injured horses in a surprise promise made to one of the victims. Detective Ron Crockett gets involved in an investigation into the accident. The Bracketts' ferry catches on fire near Catalina Island. Station 51 responds to rescue them. The racehorse insurance fraud violator is caught on the burning ship in a sheer stroke of luck.  
Station 51 buys the rights of Gage's trainer abused race horse from the track in cooperation with him, in order to give the promising colt to a jockey pair they previously treated at the track.

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The Story Unfolds...

Season One, Episode Five..

Integrity Game Debut Launch: 15 Feb 2003.

From: "Linda Taggatz" Date: Fri Feb 14, 2003 4:41 pm Subject: A possible start for Ep 5.

Kel was going on vacation. Not just any vacation. For the first time in years he was going on a family vacation with both parents. He and his dad were starting to resolve their differences. They both felt that going to Martha's Vineyard like they did when Kel was a kid would help.  
Joe had volunteered to take them to the airport. They had reserved a rental car to use during their stay. Of course Kel wanted to explore Boston, he hadn't been there in a long time. His mom & dad agreed to that. They knew that this vacation was important to all of them. Unfortunately a huge snowstorm hit that area hard. The airport in Boston had ben closed, no flights in or out.

-----------------------------------------------

Photos : None.

*  
From : "patti keiper" Subject : No Sure Bet.. PG-13. Date : Wed, 05 Mar 2003 12:44:23 +0000

Dr. Brackett sat in the hospital cafeteria patio across from his father, Brent, and his mother Anna Rose at a white whicker table fully under the bright noon day California sun.

Both men were in a foul mood as they chewed without tasting, the tuna sandwiches on their lunch plates. They wore matching scowls on their faces.

"Anna, you find something amusing about all this? Our vacation plans are ruined and here you are...making a spectacle of yourself."  
Brent told her firmly.

Anne Rose broke out into spontaneous laughter covering her mouth with the hand not holding the plane tickets. "I'm sorry." she gasped.  
"It's just you two are reacting in exactly the same way right now. It's not the end of the world. Just the end of our current gameplan.  
We don't have to go to Martha's Vineyard to spend time as a family. No. We can do that right here at home where no snowstorm can possibly interfere."

Kel looked up sitting straighter, as he shoved the last bite of his sandwich into his mouth. "Easier said than done. Those tickets cost a fortune, mom. What do you expect us to do about it now?"

"This.." her warm brown eyes beamed from the frame of auburn hair around her face. And she promptly tore their three unused flight vouchers in half firmly with a flourish.

Brent and Kel both stood up from their chairs in dismay.

"Anna Rose, why in G*d's name did you do that?!"

"Mom! What the h*ll?!!"

They both cried in outburst at the same moment.

Both father and son eyed each other up when they both realized that had struck exactly the same pose of ire with hands spread indignant over the table top, leaning in to Anna in anger.

That only made Mrs. Brackett laugh all the harder to the point of wheezing soundlessly and her light airy voice died away as she lost her ability to breathe.

Kel and Brent frowned, and again, father and son took like actions of grabbing up their glasses of water to hand to Anna to drink to gain a quicker recovery from her mirth.

Soon, Anna wiped away her amused streaming tears and accepted one of the waters being offered to her. "Oh, that felt good." she chuckled, dabbing her eyes on a napkin delicately while she sipped the ice water. "Getting rid of those tickets meant getting rid of unpleasant distractions. Now, think of it this way."  
she said patting their rough hands. "We now have a squeaky clean slate to work with now in regards to our family vacation. And do sit down. People are beginning to stare, doctors..." she grinned.

Kel and Brent glanced around and did see a few subtle glances their way. They buttoned their dinner jackets over their ties self consciously.

The older Brackett cleared his throat.  
"Don't make it a habit, pet." Brent said, regaining his chair and he honestly started to half smile. "If you want to throw money away to make a point next time, I'll have a pond built in the back yard and I'll hand you the sack of coins myself."

"Amen to that.." Kel said empathetically and downed his water glass in a salute to the suggestion. He then began to gather up the two lunch trays that were empty.

Anna Rose's eyes twinkled. "Your father's such a kidder, Kel. Don't listen to him."

"Have I ever?" Dr. Brackett quipped.

Brent nearly spit out the rest of his sandwich he had started eating again as he pegged an intense stare at his only son. "Yes. You have."  
he said, covering his mouth with his napkin.  
"When I called you last week about this family vacation plan of ours... You actually listened to what your mother and I had to say and then you actually said, ...yes..to it. " he grinned.

"As if I could have refused. I'd have been disowned.."

"There is that.." Brent said.

Anna Rose slapped her husband on the arm to behave himself.

"So, what do we do now that mom's made sure that any ticket refunding's impossible?"  
Kel asked.

Brent shrugged. "Don't know. Ask your mother."  
he said, mopping up some mayonnaise with the last crust remaining of his food.

Kel raised questioning eyebrows.

It was Anna Rose's turn to lean over the table to catch their ears in confidence. "We find a third party to make the decision for us."

"And who would that be?" Kel grumbled.  
Personal privacy was still a big thing with the younger Dr. Brackett.

----------------------------------------------

Dixie McCall backed up against the base station glass door, clutching an armful of patient charts against her chest defensively.  
"Ohh noo... Anna Rose. This isn't fair.." she hissed in a whisper at Mrs. Brackett. Subconsciously, Dix glanced inside the clear glass base station where Kel had dragged his father in to overhear an incoming rescue call he was handling. "I can't take on an important decision like that. It's taken years for me to get those two to even begin to listen to each other.."

"And it shows. " she said empathetically.  
"Now who better to make the next call than a close co-working friend. H*ll. You and Kel dated once. We all trust you."

"That's dirty pool and you know it,  
Mrs. Brackett." Dix said straight faced but unoffended.

"Who else can we turn to? Mike Morton's never even had lunch with us. And Joe,  
..." she sighed. "Joe Early's too nice to even try to get involved in the Brackett father/son feud reclamation project."

"Nice sentiment there. I think I'll follow Joe's angle, too." And Dixie tried to make her escape.

Anna Rose got in her way innocently by taking the charts from the head ER nurse's grasp, "Here, let me file these for you, dear. I know where they go.."

And Dixie was forced to stay while Mrs. Brackett slowly set the patient charts in their metal holder on Dix's desk, one by one, alphabetically. McCall plastered a forced polite smile on her face as Anna Rose rambled on.

"So, what's a great part of town?  
Long Beach? Heard Crystal Pier's simply lovely this time of year."

"I wouldn't know. I never get out."  
Dixie mumbled. She again tried to ooze away from the desk. But Anna Rose reached for another chart slyly and she had to freeze in place or drop the rest of her stack.

Anna Rose said, "Neither do we.  
That's the problem." she said frankly. "Ok, this one goes under... S.. for Smith.."she said, myopically eyeing the chart's proper slot. "We're not asking you for stock investing advice, just one teeny tiny vacationing spot idea for us to go to. Just pick anywhere,  
Dixie. Top of your head. Whatever you say won't be locked in stone by any measure, I assure you. We're just...getting a fresh start here." she said, filing another metal chart into its housing.

Dixie sighed and fought like mad not to tap her foot on the tiles in nervousness.  
::Oh, boy. Fates, I demand you get me out of this one. If I choose anywhere that doesn't turn out for the Bracketts, I'll have to live with the consequences of my actions for the next ten years working with the two doctors locked into yet another feud.:: she bemoaned mentally.

Right then, the red light on the call station over her head began to flash.. Miss McCall's face erupted in an eager glee of reprieve.  
"Hold that thought, Anna Rose. I have to answer that. It's a second run coming in.." And she shoved the charts right back at Mrs. Brackett who barely caught them as Dix fled into the base station's sound isolation room and slammed the door.

Dixie's hand darted onto the talk button on the second intercom, just barely beating out Kel's subtly reaching one. "Unit calling in please repeat.." she stated quickly, taking over the run from him hastily.

Kel said. "You didn't have to come in just to answer that." he said, looking up from the EKG strip he was looking at.

"I sure did.." Dixie gasped. She felt Brent Brackett come stand by her to hear how a registered nurse answered a rescue call.

Dixie's caller came into voice. "Rampart,  
this is Engine 51. We're on scene at the Santa Anita Racetrack. There's been a multiple race horse pileup on the final turn of a stakes race with injuries. Squad 51's en route on the track right now with the grounds crew leading the way. Please stand by." came Captain Stanley's voice over the murmuring roar of a crowd of other people on the frequency. Their horrified dismay was very apparent in the background. To Dix, it sounded like a bad accident.

"Standing by, 51." Dixie said. "Kel, do you need Joe on yours?" she asked.

Dr. Brackett looked up from his chart.  
"Hmm? No, this is just a simple case of syncope. It's a scorcher out there today. We're bound to get a few heat related injuries into the ER this afternoon."  
Dr. Brackett said. "This cardiac strip's precautionary only." Then he leaned down and finished his call.  
"Squad Ten. Start an IV Normal Saline and run it in at the rate of 30-40 drops a minute. Continue to monitor her vital signs and transport as soon as possible.. Now that she's awake, you can D/C the O2 at your discretion."

##10-4, Rampart. Squad Ten out. Our ETA is ten minutes.##

"10-4, Squad 10." Kel ended the transmission.

Brent Brackett motioned Kel over while Dixie began filling out the run sheet for 51. She moved the yellow medical status magnet for their station from base bound to on rescue call. "Looks like this might be a bad one, son.." Brent told Kel. "It's at the race track."

Kel sighed and his face twitched in sympathy. "Another jockey tangle up?"

Dixie looked up from her writing. "Yes, sounds like it. 51's still getting out to that part of the track."

"Stick around Dix, we may have more than we can handle here very quickly. And call Joe in here."

"Right." Dix said handing off the run chart to Dr. Brackett. "Excuse me, Brent." and she reached over and grabbed the paging phone over the recording monitor above the intercom. " Operator. Please page Dr. Early to the base station, stat.  
Yes, thank you." and she hung up.

Silence stretched in the tiny room and Brent felt his palms beginning to sweat in anticipation even as Dix and Kel calmly marked notes on their respective charts. Finally, Brent licked his lips. "Is it always this hard waiting around to hear back on a rescue in progress ?"

"Yes.." Dix and Kel said simultaneously.

"I'm glad I'm a psychiatrist. No rescue calls to speak of.." he mumbled to himself.

Overhearing, Dix and Kel smiled at him.

================================

Squinting into the bright sun to the south, Cap could just make out the dust trail of the squad as it followed the grounds crew truck along the track's outer rail to where the chaos was happening. He could see several horses sprawled awkwardly on the ground, some still moving. But the one smaller human body hanging on the rail and the several more in the dirt, were alarmingly still.

He could see at least four racehorses careening wildly around the track without their riders with parade outrider ponies and their unhurt, tossed jockeys,  
hard up on recapturing them from their mindless dash away from the accident side of the track.

Hank hung the biophone receiver over his shoulder and he slapped Chet Kelly on the arm of his overcoat.  
"Chet, get a couple of hoses strung onto the apron here. Straight through the hydrant. Maybe we can do something for those poor horses out there. Only one seems to have broken a leg. The others that are down could still be alive and only lightly heat stroked. But don't go out there until those loose racers are caught, all right? It's too risky for us to have our hoses running where the others, in their panic, might trip over them."

"Right, Cap." And Kelly jogged down through the tunnel to the utility driveway where Stoker was still idling the big engine to tell him Cap's orders.

Hank turned to Marco at his side. "Marco. Roy and John may need help communicating with their victims out there. If any of those jockeys are even half out, their english speaking abilities will go out the window if you know what I mean."

"Understood, Cap. I'm on it." And Marco went with another crew pickup truck, riding on the back. They maneuvered slowly down track to avoid upsetting the free runners, moving along the outer rail to the scene of mayhem.

By the time Chet and Stoker had returned with the strung hoses and had charged them, the uneffected racers and their jockeys had all heeded the red lit hooter on the tote board and had vacated completely off the track to the backside stables or the test barn. Cap could see the remaining loose thoroughbreds were firmly back in reining hands.

##Ladies and Gentlemen. Please hold all tickets#  
said the track announcer. ##Officials are dealing with the situation on the track's far turn. Race Five is delayed until further notice. All pool, trifecta, and daily double betting is now frozen at all teller windows. Please stand by for the results of the steward's inquiry.##

Hank frowned. ::How cold is that? There are possibly dead horses and people out there and all the track officials are worried about is keeping the gamblers happy?.. No wonder I hate the track..:: he thought.  
::Don't get what Roy sees in playing the horses at all.::

----------

Chet and Stoker stepped out onto the track when the tote board light stopped flashing its loose horse warning. Together they began dragging out the hoses to where they could see Roy and John and Marco moving from fallen rider to fallen rider. "Coming through..." Chet said angrily, as blue grounds crew backs just concentrating on tractoring the starting gate into position for the next race, got in their way.

The track horse ambulance team was already leading away a limping foreleg shattered filly to the attending vet awaiting there with a syringe. Kelly felt sick to his stomach. "They're gonna put her down?" he shouted at Stoker over the noise of the tractors.

"Yeah, there's nothing they can do after a horse's leg has been broken." Mike replied. "I've seen this before." he said lugging the heavy hose to the nearest downed horse.

Gage looked up from the nearly unconscious jockey he was assessing. "Stoker. Not that one. He's the one who caused this pileup. He burst a lung vessel and was dead even before he hit the ground. See the bright blood flowing out of his nostrils there? Go cool down that colt still twitching over by the rail. Hose down just his head. Be sure to loosen that saddle strap and take his bridle out from between his teeth if you can while your doing it. He may come around from the heat in time.. All the trainers will be out here in a sec to take over the horse care for ya.. Do whatever they ask of you." Then Johnny bent to work over his patient. "But what about these other jockeys?" Chet asked.

Johnny met Chet's eyes heavily.  
"Roy and Marco and I have everything taken care of on our end. There's only these two victims.  
The other jockeys were killed along with their horses. We found that most have hangman's fractures from their falls and that guy's been trampled to death." he gestured with his head behind him.

Kelly saw a lone tiny male jockey lying face down in the dirt not too far away. The back of his chest bore the unmistakable crushed flat look of a fatality. He almost looked like a shattered marionette to Chet.

Stoker looked up, too, in shock when he saw Roy only dealing with the american woman jockey still draped over the inner rail. DeSoto was getting the grounds crew men to carefully hold her neck still while he placed her into a cervical collar while he continued talking quietly with her.

"UGghhhHHH." she moaned. "How's Little Bit? H-- How's my filly? She got away from me after Charismatic went down. *cough*."

"Shh, try not to move, miss. You may have a serious back injury." Roy told her.  
"Now we're going to immobilize you and slide you onto this long board here. Then we'll get you on some oxygen so you can breathe a little better, all right?"

Behind Roy, the sealed horse ambulance shifted with a thud on its tires as a heavy weight inside of it fell to the floor.

The woman didn't say anything more and she started weeping uncontrollably, ignoring the men who were easing her off the railing inch by inch. "They euthanized her didn't they..? They killed my Little Bit..Oh, nooooOOOoo."

"I'm sorry, ma'am. From what I could see her leg was fractured too badly to splint."  
Roy said quietly. "At least she's been released from her agony."

"nnnooo." The jockey sobbed once more and let go her hold on consciousness as she was strapped onto the long board and immobilized.

The woman rider was placed on the ground and Roy hastily placed an O2 mask over her face and started to take a BP on her good arm after making sure she could breathe well enough on her back without the help of an oral airway.

He looked up at the grounds crew men who had helped him. "Stick around. There's no way the Mayfair's gonna be able to come out here like we did. This dirt's too 're gonna have to hand carry these people outta here once we get them treated." he told them.

The Santa Anita workers nodded.

Then Roy yelled after Johnny. "Hey Johnny! What do you got?"

"I got four Code F... This guy's got a ton of broken ribs on the left side. I'm finding signs of marked flail chest. And he's having a lot of trouble breathing.  
The O2's not helping. Gonna have to stabilize this first before we move him out. Man, don't these guys believe in flack vests and helmets?"

"Nah, " Roy said tightly. "They don't want to wear them because of the extra weight."

"That's gotta change. Oh, man. Look around us. This is a just a senseless massacre..!" Gage swore.

"I don't make the rules." Roy replied.

"No, you just support the industry by condoning them with bets on the horses instead." Johnny snapped as he carefully had some track crew help him roll the moaning injured jockey onto his bad side once he had been immobilized.

Roy tactfully didn't say anything.

The motion drove the wounded man awake and he began to swear a stream of words that weren't in understandable english. Marco calmed him in animated Spanish getting a quick history and verbal account of injury from him.

Kelly and Stoker were hard at work with the hose. Stoker was holding the horse's head straight out so the heat overwhelmed colt could breathe while Chet played a powerful stream of icy water over his head to cool down his brain pan as rapidly as he could. Soon the horse began snorting in tight gasps and his legs began to kick out as he started snapping out of his unconsciousness.

"Look out!" said a few of the starting gate guys and they jumped down from the tractors with ropes to tie around the colts legs so he wouldn't hurt the firemen trying to help him.

A gnarled old trainer huffed and puffed his way up to Chet and he patted him in the shoulder.  
"Easy. Ok, keep it up boys, just like that. The crew's got his legs pinned. Now, play the water over the rest of him. Get his chest first. Then everywhere but the legs for that will cause the tendons to bow permanently if they're cooled too fast. Don't want him irreversibly lame."

"Sir?" said Stoker, startled at the trainer's sudden appearance. "Can we do anything for the other racers down around us? We have an extra hose."

"Nah. They've cooked too much in the sun.  
Ain't nothing gonna wake em now. It's too late.  
We can only save this young colt here."

"But.." Kelly started up.

"Just keep working young man.." the wizened trainer told him. He sighed and got up from his crouch and wandered over to the dead stallion in the dirt with the blood filled nose. He stepped on the horse's flank and pressed down with a foot, cocking his head when he heard the telltale gurgle of lungs drowned in an artery burst. "Oh, Dusty Schraeder. Now you've gone too far."

Near him, Gage was writing down the vitals he had obtained on his patient. "Don't tell me.  
Skipped Lasix treatment to cut budget corners with a little insurance money collection on the side?"

The older man in the straw hat looked up at the dark eyed paramedic who had spoken to him.  
"Fraid so. Oldest track scam in the book 'cept for calcium stunting to cause bone failure." the trainer said. "You know about horses, young man.."

"I know a bit.." Johnny said. "I have a ranch full of em.  
Excuse me.." and he started to relay his medical information to Cap via his walkie talkie..

--------------------------------

Photo : Brent Brackett looking at an x-ray.

Photo : Anna Rose Brackett looking soft eyed.

Photo : Kel Brackett getting smooched by Dixie.

Photo : A racetrack starting gate with an ambulance.

Photo : Roy DeSoto in helmet looking down.

Photo : Johnny Gage looking down at victim by squad.

Photo : Jockey wearing C collar surrounded by help,  
equipment, and his racehorse.

Photo : Another jockey holding down a stricken horses's head.

Photo : Cap and Chet stand ready with a water hose.

Photo : Crew putting ropes around a struggling blindfolded injured horse.

*  
From : Sam Iam Subject : [EmergencyTheaterLive] Sticky Situations Date : Sat, 8 Mar 2003 23:16:01 -0800 (PST) Acknowledgements to P. Keiper for providing an EMT scenario allowing for a believable slide downhill for the downed male jockey enough, so my plot twist idea could work.

Acknowledgements to Dr. Jeff Seltun on giving me the doctor speak for all the medical want-to-happens I threw at him.

Thank you Sue Hampton ER RN/EMT-P/FF for the IV type pointers you offered earlier on the general writer's list.

-  
"Squad 51 to Engine 51. Uh, Cap, advise L.A. that we have multiple fatalities here. Numbered four."  
Johnny Gage lowered his voice so the kindly trainer nearest him standing over the dead, bled out racer,  
couldn't overhear. "And... ask for a police response. I have reason to believe this pileup wasn't an accident."  
Then he spoke louder with a heads up glance at Roy for his history.. "Stand by for vitals on two victims,  
Engine 51."

##10-4, Squad 51. .............L.A. has been notified. Standing by and awaiting vital signs.## Cap replied.

Johnny Gage bent over his agitated victim. "Hey.  
senor..Can you hear me? Just try to relax. Strapping ya on this board's just a precaution. Now you've got some broken ribs here that we need to take care of. Just try to keep from moving around okay? Having ya on your side like this is gonna help you breathe better. Marco, keep holding him just like that. If you have to, get some of those guys over here to help you."

Marco spoke a few short words in spanish and two members of the grounds crew came and knelt by them to help hold the injured man in position. "Como te llama?"  
Lopez asked the injured jockey.

"Jose' Rivero. Aiiyy.." said the man irritatedly.  
The jockey continued to swear and cuss in spanish but his anger wasn't directed at Gage or Lopez. It was aimed towards a second trainer who was staying well away from the dead thoroughbreds. The man was dispassionately chewing tobacco as he watched track officials taking photographs of the dead horses and riders.

The fallen jockey swept off his oxygen mask and spit in insult as he continued to glare at the dark dressed man. "Jefe Schraeder! Hablas usted con tu'  
ahora. Por que? Mis amigos son muerto!  
Por nada!!" cried the wounded racehorse rider and he once more tried to lift his head up. "Y mi caballo is infermo sol malo porque de tu!"

Gage held him down firmly by the shoulders. "Hey, hey.. Now settle down.  
That C collar's there for a reason. Stay still. Now tell me what's wrong? Your breathing's a little off... Listen to me.. Hey..Where else are you hurting besides your chest here?"

The jockey ignored Gage until Marco grabbed him by the face firmly, motioning for him to look him in the eyes intently. "Eschuchas!..Nosostros son ayudar. Donde es su dolor?!"

The jockey tried to pull away from Marco's grasp,  
and locked up in agony on the long board, ignoring both firemen as he continued to rant at Dusty Schraeder standing just within range of eyesight. Lopez shook his head in frustration and glanced up at Johnny. "I told him to listen to us and that we're trying to help, but he's not answering me about where else he's hurting."

Johnny looked at Marco. "What DID ya get from him? He's off in his own little world here. Man, if I didn't know better, I'd say he's out for vengeance." he said drawing out his clothes shears from his hip holster. Gage began to cut away the stained orange and brown silks from the man's torso for a closer survey.  
"Set that 02 back onto his face again Marco. He's getting a little cyanotic."

Marco nodded his head moving the clear plastic mask back over the man's struggling mouth. "His name is Jose' Rivera. He is begging his boss for a reason why his friends died and he's blaming him for his horse being sun sick like he is."

"That guy over there?" Johnny pointed to Dusty Schraeder.

"Yeah.."

Johnny looked up at the black cowboy hatted Texan and felt an immediate dislike for the man. ::But he's something for Vince to worry about when he gets here.:: His eyes then swept to the colt Mike Stoker and Chet Kelly were trying to save with the assistance of the kindly old trainer.

The colt was now resting on his belly, quivering like a newborn as he fought the rest of the way to wakefulness under the flowing stream of the fire hose. His soaked coffee bay coat literally steamed in the sun in twisting curls of sour smelling humidity. A thick foam began to spread over his whithers and flanks. Johnny heard the kindly old trainer murmur that they were succeeding in drawing the young horse out of heatstroke. "That's it.  
Just kidney sweat now.. That's a good sign."

"Is he going to make it, Mr. Farley?" Chet asked.

The man he had learned was named Walter,  
didn't reply and the worried look on Kelly's face returned in force.

Gage kept his face neutral as thoughts raced through his head. ::No, that will be up to his owners. Heat stroke recovery usually takes three months to half a year. That colt's got good lines. Hope his share holders make the right choice..:: Johnny thought glancing away from his coworkers.

Gage looked down and swept agile fingers around Jose's head and down his body, looking for deformities.

He found a small oozing gash on his chest that was alternately retracting in and burping out as the angry man respired. The tiny sucking wound was on the side away from the man's main ribcage injury. "Marco.. grab an occlusive dressing and tape it over this wound here. Seal it off only on three sides. Looks like this laceration's penetrated through into his chest. He must have fallen on something sharp when his horse went down."

"Got it.." Lopez said.

Johnny felt along the jockey's sweating chest thoroughly but found grating, moving bones only on the flailed side. He snatched for his stethoscope out of the drug box and listened to the holed side carefully, then compared the breath sounds he heard there to the ones under the rib fractures.  
He grunted, making a mental note and took another set of vitals before finishing the rest of his survey on the jockey.

He found no further injuries.

Johnny returned to the man's throat and felt the cooling skin in the area carefully and over his chest once again. Then he looked at how the rider's larnyx sat in relation to the rest of his neck by sight as he reassessed the man's consciousness level and checked his pupils.

Gage nodded at Roy, who had just completed his secondary survey of the unconscious woman rider.

DeSoto had his helpers carry the girl closer to Johnny and the drug box until both their victims were side by side, head to head,  
nearest all the equipment. Roy crouched over the EKG monitor case and he opened it. "She's stable. The 02's keeping her in good color." he said, handing Johnny his pad of notes. "Add one more thing. She's got a open fracture of her left radius and ulna, with sluggish perfusion. I immobilized her arm in the best position I could find and she's still got neural responses and pulses in her hand and fingers but they're degrading. She may have torn an artery or vein internally. I'll get your victim patched in for ya on Lead Two."

"Okay.." Johnny relayed to Captain Stanley on his hand held radio once more.  
"Engine 51. This is HT 51. We're set for a medical relay to Rampart."

##Go ahead, HT 51.##

Cap Stanley watched as Vince and a detective car pulled up. He re-established communications on the biophone that he had perched on a track rail post, with apprehension. "Rampart, this is Engine 51. I'll be relaying from Squad 51 in 2. They are still inaccessible on the horse track and out of effective biophone communications range."

##10-4, 51. Standing by.## said Dixie.

Once again, Captain Stanley cursed the whole idea of Santa Anita's turf and dirt race tracks being set into a bowl just so two lakes could grace the racing infield's garden grove of Queen's palm trees. ::Stupid design. Even if having that extra water there is a boon for any future fire call. At least Roy's EKG telemetry will get out.::

Johnny spoke into his HT to Cap.  
"Engine 51, Victim One. Male, age approximately 19 at 105 pounds.  
Vitals signs are; Pulse 124, respirations are 20 and shallow, BP is 100/62. Pupils are equal and reactive. He's diaphoretic,  
conscious, and emotionally agitated. He's on fifteen liters O2. I've found pardoxical breathing symptoms with a large flail segment on his left side. He has a sucking chest wound to his upper right chest, now occluded. I'm hearing rales on the left and diminished breath sounds on the right. Subcutaneous emphysema is present about the neck and upper chest. He has been immobilized and positioned flail side down. His EKG is showing sinus tach. Sending you a strip, lead two."

Cap relayed the information and soon Joe Early responded. ##10-4, Engine 51. Tell Squad 51 to start a large bore IV Normal Saline with Lactated Ringers. Run in a 500 cc bolus initially until his BP comes back up again,  
then leave it TKO. Have them watch for signs of further breathing difficulty. I suspect a pneumothorax. EKG is now showing sinus tach at a rate of 130. Splint the flail segment by taping only the effected side until his breathing improves. Prepare to assist his ventilations if his resp rate increases over 24 times a minute. Treat for shock. Tell them I want a new set of vitals every five minutes.##

Cap replied. "10-4, Rampart. Stand by."  
and he shared the orders with his two paramedics still working a quarter of a mile away down on the final turn. He soon got Roy and Johnny's confirmation on the orders, and he immediately, received information about their second victim over his HT.

Cap listened, memorizing details. Then he called in his men's second medical data set to Joe Early on the biophone.  
"Rampart. Victim number two. A female approximately 24 years of age.  
Weight 102 pounds. Found prone over a rail. Was conscious, now comatose. Vitals signs are, pulse 90, respirations are 14, BP 100/76. Pupils are equal and reactive, but sluggish. She's been fully immobilized and is on fifteen liters 02.  
My paramedic notes probable neck and back injuries. There's quivering in the upper extremities and bilateral positive Babinski's finding on both legs. He earlier reported a growing lack of sensation on her from lumbar three on down. There appears to be no palpable spinal deformity.  
Victim has an open fracture of the lower left arm. Circulation and sensation is partially compromised despite splinting in position of alignment."

Cap got his followup on the woman for a precautionary IV and a rapid transport order.  
Inwardly, he hope the girl would get to surgery in time to save her arm and effect repair to stop the creeping paralysis she seemed to be suffering.

He finished correspondence between his men and the hospital. Soon, he waved the Mayfair to the road where he was standing as it arrived in full siren. "We're gonna load up right here. The paramedics are bringing in two victims from out there on longboards.." he told the attendants running to his side. "The dirt's too soft for your rig to handle."

The two men nodded and intently watched the group of people, bearing the two jockeys in between them all, walking their way.

---------

Cap wasn't surprised to see Detective Crockett flanking Vince Howard when he had put the biophone into the awaiting ambulance. "Vince. Detective Crockett.  
My man Gage thinks our racing accident wasn't accidental.  
I trust his judgement since he's a pretty good horseman off duty."

"We got any witnesses?" Vince asked.

Cap replied. "Two. But one is unconscious and the other is in no shape to talk right now. Both jockeys. And I think Johnny was hinting about learning something from one of those trainers milling about, too. Nothing concrete, just a hunch I got from the tone of his voice."

The tall quiet African American detective thoughtfully rubbed his chin. "Ok, we'll take it from here, Captain.  
Thank you. I'll have a talk with your paramedics once they're through with their run. Call me once the squad's back at the station?" he said, heading off the fire captain's worry that the detective would get in the way of his men.

"Sure will." Cap said. He took the card the detective handed him and pocketted it. He started off towards Kelly and Mike as they headed back to the grandstand apron.

Smiling craftily as Cap disappeared around a bend,  
Detective Crockett took one look at the deep track dirt and then one more at his shiny black shoes, before he unhesitantly stepped ankle deep into the sandy loam to rendevous with 51's medics on the far turn.

-------

Hank Stanley intercepted Chet and Stoker as they returned to the paddock side road dragging their hoses behind them. "I couldn't see what you were doing. Are they gonna make it?" he asked about the horses.

"Only one, Cap. Our helping trainer, Walter Farley, said we got there too late for the others. Apparently, racehorses cook to death internally on hot days like this if they take a fall more than halfway through a race. He said it happens because their metabolisms are kicked in overdrive."  
Kelly said dully.

Cap sighed in sympathy. "Oh, I'm sorry.  
I got some good news at least. Two of the jockeys are still alive.."

"That's great, Cap." Stoker said without enthusiasm.  
Come on, Chet. Let's get these hoses packed." and Hank watched his two disheartened men plod dejectedly back to the Engine with their load.

Cap called out after them. "Stoker, would you snag a ride with a track steward cart to go fetch the squad? You're gonna have to follow the ambulance with it. Gage and DeSoto really have their hands full right now."

"Right, Cap." Mike replied and he jogged back the way he had come, leaving Chet to do the heavy work. In sympathy, Cap pocketed his HT and helped Kelly out by climbing onto the hose bed of the engine to be primary hauler.

--------------------------------------

"Crockett! I don't have time to talk with you now.." Gage said distractedly as he and the grounds crew and paramedic struggled to carry equipment and victims to the far rail and the firm concrete apron beneath the grandstand.

"I just want to ask you a few questions."  
The detective said, lifting his feet high and stumbling a bit in the loam.

"Fine..then help me by taking over.."  
he said, snatching the detective's hand and forcing him to grab the ambu he was using on Jose'. "Bag him when he breathes in and also when he doesn't. Twelve times a minute." he ordered.

"But uh, he's still awake."

"Yeah. I know. Assisting him like this is helping splint some rib fractures he's got inside. Marco tells me Jose' says it hurts like h*ll but he's grateful for the help."

"Ok. I got it."  
Crockett began squeezing the ambu bag after quickly picking up how Johnny had been managing. He opened his mouth.  
"I know Spanish, too. Maybe I can kill three birds with one stone by--"

Gage got into Crockett's face. "If you ask Jose' any question other than, 'How are you doing?' I'll deck ya.."

Crockett closed his mouth. The tall detective nodded dutifully,  
outmaneuvered, and just squeezed the bag.

Johnny moved Jose's IV bag from under the boy's shoulder to his own teeth to hold as he turned up the dial to wide open when he saw the young teen pale another shade of gray. "Let's move faster."

Johnny felt a hand weakily clutching his own. Gage leaned down. "Hold it Crockett. Looks like Jose's trying to say something." It was a rare moment of absolute clarity for the young teen.

Jose' met Johnny's eyes meaningfully and he gasped as the ambu was lifted away. "Don't let them kill that horse. Save him, senor. I pay you t-" he said in very very broken english. The effort to speak took his breath away as Jose's pain bit down hard. His lungs cramped up yet again. Gage gestured Crockett to help the teen breathe once more on the bag valved 02.

Jose' was so agitated, that Gage caught the kind old trainer, Walter Farley's attention. "Hey, Mr. Farley!"

"Yeah?" the old man shouted back from where he was helping the colt stand.

"I'm that colt's insurance policy. Do everything you can for him, ok?" Johnny said.

Walter smiled. "For the kid?"

"Yeah.. for the kid.." Gage replied.

Walter Farley gave Johnny Gage a thumbs up in encouragement and a slow nod of grateful appreciation.

Johnny saw Jose' start to calm immediately.

"Gracias, senor." Jose' sighed softly.

----------

In the ambulance, Crockett took full advantage of playing an active part in Jose's care by letting his curiosity get the best of him.

"This is fascinating.." Squeeze. "What's that taped to Jose's chest?" Crockett asked from his place at the jockey's head. "Looks like a metal ingot."he shouted over the wail of the sirens as they sped to the hospital.

Johnny didn't look up from where he was setting up yet another IV for the teen rider sitting across from where Roy crouched over his own patient lying on the passenger bench.

He ducked his head self consciously. "Walter Farley gave me one of the colt's lead saddle weights to use to splint the unstable section of ribs here." Johnny pointed.

"Oo, I'd hate to be the groom who has to return that saddle to the winner circle's weight scale." The detective quipped, mentally filed away the name Gage gave him for future reference.

Gage didn't laugh.

"Why would someone put a weight on anyone with broken ribs like this?" Crockett asked to lighten the feeling of tension in the ambulance.

Gage grimaced with impatience as he reached for a BP cuff. "I'd love to talk about flail chest protocol with you all day but I'm rather busy right now, detective.." and he buried his ears in stethoscope to tune him out.

Crockett blinked and jerked a free thumb at Gage in a questioning gesture to Roy, offering a little what's-with-him? shrug.

Roy looked up from rechecking his patient's breathing and pulse rate. "Johnny gets a little intense about anyone under his care. Especially if they're critical."

Crockett's face fell into an immediate frown. "You mean?" he looked down at the increasingly groggy Jose' beneath the ambu's face mask.

"Yeah, collapsed lung. And it's getting worse." Roy said. "Try to cut my partner some slack. He's just staying focused." he said, quickly and sharp. Then he softened, raising his eyebrows. "Good bagging. Keep it up just like you're doing it, Crockett.  
Any ease we can give Jose' now is a point in our favor.."

"How's the girl?" Crockett asked DeSoto.

"Fair. She's might be trying to wake up here."  
he said, readjusting her O2 mask so it stayed out of her eyes.

"Did you manage to get her name before she blacked out?"

Roy said. "Not directly. Her name's Mary Kenner. I got it from the betting tote board using her mount's number.  
It always lists trainer and jockey."

::And another piece of the puzzle:  
the detective mused.

The rushing Mayfair ambulance turned a corner as it left the Santa Anita Track property.

Crockett noticed a change in Jose' about the same time Johnny did. "Hey, Gage,  
he's not taking in the bag breaths too well. I'm getting a weird resistance and he's not even trying to breathe in anymore."

"Just keep ventilating him exactly as you are." Johnny straddled Jose's gurney and listened close to both sides of the man's chest in haste. "D*mn." He felt Jose's neck and he looked at Roy.  
"I got absent breath sounds unilaterally and he's starting to show trachael deviation.  
I'm seeing jugular vein distension, too.  
Gotta be a tension pneumo."

Roy reached over and ripped off the occlusive patch Marco had placed earlier over the jockey's chest wound.  
He waited a beat, then replaced it down firmly over the jagged tear. "Did that help any?"

Johnny listened again through his stethoscope.  
"Nah.. not enough to matter."

On the EKG, Jose's heart rate jolted up into the low 140's and an alarm began to sound. Roy took a hasty BP. "It's down.  
78/52."

Johnny shouted. "Jose'..Keep trying to breathe on your own. We're going to help y--" He broke off belatedly. "Sh*t. I wish I'd taken Marco up on his offer to teach me Spanish. Crockett. You talk to him. Keep him calm."  
and he snatched the phone to Rampart.  
"Rampart this is Rescue 51, how do you read?"

Joe Early was still on the intercom.  
##Go ahead, 51. What's the trouble? I note Victim One's increased tachycardia.##

Gage told him Jose's new development.

Brackett and Joe Early both met eyes in sudden worry.

Kel said to Dix. "Have a chest tube set up in his treatment room. Looks like Johnny's gonna do his first needle chest decompression in the field. Joe, go ahead and give him the order. He can handle it."

Dixie left to make the arrangements.

Joe got back on the line.##51, pull over. You're going to have to relieve the building pressure with a pleural thoracotomy ASAP. Dr. Brackett concurs with me.##

"10-4.." Johnny said and he got off Jose's gurney and slapped the driver peek window twice, loudly. They felt the Mayfair grind to a halt at a curb just as Jose' fell into deep unconsciousness.

Seconds later, Mike Stoker opened the outer doors, and looked into the ambulance cab. "What's the problem?" he asked, knowing the rig never stopped unless it was for an invasive treatment.

"Chest tap for a tension pneumo. It's pretty far along. Stick around." Roy told Stoker. Wordlessly he thought. ::Let's hope we don't need Stoker for some CPR here.::

Crockett cleared his throat. "Oh, boy.."  
he said when Johnny drew out a long needle and butterfly valve. "You're gonna stick him with that?" he said.

Gage said. "Yeah. If you can't handle it,  
I'll have Stoker take over f--"

"Just do what you have to, Gage."  
Crockett said continuing to bag Jose'  
steadily. "You're wasting time." Crockett loosened his tie and wiped some sweat off his upper lip.

Johnny's face cracked into a slight smile for a moment before Roy swabbed down the proper area over the right side of Jose's chest. Then his expression melted into one of concentration. "Ok,... Roy. I'm going into the second intercostal space anteriorly.. Don't hold your breath..."  
Gage said, doing just that. "Crockett. Hold off just a sec. Start ventilating him double time as soon as I have this thing out again."  
Johnny felt his needle punch through into the abnormally gaping pleural space and a loud rush of air hissed out immediately through it. "Bingo. Tension pneumo diagnosis is confirmed."  
He chuckled withdrawing the needle slowly. "Ok,  
Crockett. I'm through." he said, throwing the hollow lance into the sharps disposal bin on the wall. "It's out."

Crockett opened his eyes and smiled when he felt an immediate change as he began to work the ambu again. More oxygen seemed to be getting into the teen's lungs.  
"Hey, I think he's better."

Gage listened to his handywork. "Yep. He sure is.  
Breath sounds are back. Just some new minor rales on the right. Might be pulmonary contusion noise cropping up." he sat back and sighed grabbing up the phone as the EKG settled back into a slower, more effective sinus rhythm.  
"Rampart. Chest decompression was successful."

## 10-4, 51. Is the boy unconscious? ##

"That's affirmative, Rampart.."

##What are his vital signs?##

Roy had already anticipated that need.  
"BP 112/86, Respirations unassisted are 8. Pulse is 110 and regular. He was getting pretty tired before his new complication."

##Go ahead and intubate him for more effective ventilations and support for those rib fractures. Have two mg's Diazepam IV set to use to keep him sedated PRN. Return his drip rate to TKO following any usage.##

"Two mg's Diazepam PRN and intubate for controlled ventilations. IV to TKO following any sedation med. 10-4, Rampart. Our ETA is six minutes."

Roy tapped Johnny on the shoulder and handed him an unwrapped endotrach tube to which Crockett said. "Y-You're going to stick him with that?"

Even Mike Stoker cracked a grin.

=============================Part II Marker====*  
Photo: Johnny Gage in a confidential pose with Detective Crockett.

Photo: A jockey and horse down on the track.

Photo : Johnny taking care of two victims O2 in an ambulance.

******************************* From :"Roxy Dee" Subject : Covering Bases~~ Date :Tue, 11 Mar 2003 22:52:16 +0000 Dixie and Joe walked out to the main ER desk and both sighed heavily as Jose' Rivera's rolling gurney left for surgery. Crockett followed them out of the exam room, trailing after Johnny as he headed straight for the call station coffee pot.

He was shaking his hands and massaging them to work out some cramps. "I don't know how you paramedics handle that bagging thing without your fingers falling off. I don't think I'll be able to lift a fork by dinner time."

Johnny laughed in sympathy.  
"A typical week sees us breathing for people that way for hours. Especially on all the bad cardiac runs. Guess I never noticed what a work out ambu ventilating is probably because we lug fire hoses around so much." he admitted. Then he eyed Joe.  
Gage asked. "Hey, doc." he said pouring himself a cupful and then enough for everyone else. "Do you think that rider'll pull through?" he asked. "I know pulmonary contusions that come afterwards with broken ribs that extensive, can get a little tricky sometimes."

"He's young and strong." Dr. Early sniffed, rubbing his nose in careful thought. "You saw how much having that chest tube inserted improved him. I think that a lifetime in the racing saddle will be his ticket to a speedy recovery. Jockeys are top notch athletes and they're usually in terrific shape. I've heard it's hard to make them lose their focus about anything as trivial mere broken bones." he joked. "They stay on their game and never lose sight of what's important to them."

"I sure got an earful of that.. I think Jose' talked me into an arrangement I just may regret." Johnny groaned.

"Oh?" Dixie commented sipping her coffee carefully.

Roy had rejoined them from his treatment room where Mary Kenner was getting her fractured arm and torn radial artery emergency repaired by Dr. Brackett and he grinned,  
leaning on the wall spinning the walkie talkie slung on one wrist absently. "The thoroughbred Jose' was riding got a little too much sun after his little tumble in the jockey pileup. Mr. Rivera wouldn't relax for us until he knew he had someone lined up to step in to accept the horse's care costs in lieu of any move the owners might make to put him down."

Dix's face split into a wide grin, which Joe echoed. "You didn't?"

Gage cleared his throat uncomfortably and just sipped his coffee.

Crockett chuckled, folding his arms across his elbows in amusement. "Now that might be kinda costly Mr. Gage. You just might have entered into a binding verbal agreement which is well on the way to actually acquiring him."

"What?! I did?" Johnny said, nearly spitting out his drink.

Crockett moved in for the killing tease.  
Yeah... I've seen handshake deals out there going on all the time. No one bothers with paper work. It's all on the honor system. Heh.  
I hear that the average race horse costs, what? Five to ten thousand dollars for those who regularly bring in the purses?"

"At least." Joe Early said.

Gage's mouth fell slack in a stunned "ouch."  
His mind was still working on the idea of racehorse assumed ownership.

Crockett smoothed down his detective jacket's lapels. "I wouldn't worry about it, Johnny. Who knows? Maybe you can get your other fire crewmates to help you cover all of his shares by splitting costs among all the shift assignments."

Johnny's eyes boggled out as he kicked into scheme gear. "Say.. that's true! I mean,  
we all chip in already and share costs for our food." he insisted. "

"Oh no.." Roy said blandly, his smile dropping off his face into one of sheer dread. "Johnny,  
I wouldn't exactly say a racehorse is the same thing as a package of T-bone steaks."

"Knock it off, Roy. What's a few bucks up front gonna matter? It's for a worthy cause at least. It's not like we're going to the stock market to gamble it it all away."

"That's just what I'm afraid of." Roy said with a frown.  
"Everything about owning a race horse IS a gamble,  
Junior, in case you haven't noticed. I sure did. And I only like to bet on 'em." he voiced in dire insistence.

But his partner was oblivious.

"Listen, Johnny, you can talk to the guys about this later. All I know is that I'M not letting you talk me into this thing, no matter how hard ya try.." and Roy picked up the drug and IV resupply box Dixie had prepared for them and made tracks for the squad where Mike Stoker was waiting. "See ya later, guys."  
he said to Crockett, Dix and Joe.

"Hey.. Roy.. Wait a minute!!" Johnny said, eagerly setting after his departing partner. Then he remembered. "Oh, heh. Sorry, all.  
Bye Joe, Dix, Crockett. Thanks for everything.  
I'll be seeing you.. Excuse me here... I gotta go talk some SENSE into my thick headed partner. He's talking crazy..." he insisted with quickly gesturing fingers.

All three nodded and rolled their eyes as Johnny quickly darted around people in the busy hospital corridors in hot pursuit of Roy DeSoto's retreating back.

"I think you created a monster.." Dixie mumbled to Crockett as she refilled their cups to the brim once more.

"Heh, heh, heh. Actually I think it's more along the lines of the fact that I just created a firehouse full of bonifide saints, Miss McCall... " Crockett said,  
rocking back on his heels. "Have a wonderful afternoon. Give me a call when Miss Kenner's awake, would ya? I'd like to speak with her about the accident today."

"Sure thing." Joe said, looking up from Jose's patient chart where he was dictating notes.

Crockett left, heading for the police station to read Vince's crime report that he had ordered the officer to gather from the track incident's trainers and uninjured jockeys.

-----------------------------------------------

Racehorse trainer, Dusty Schraeder, entered his barn full of green thoroughbreds. He immediately headed for his one lone groom tending to a wheel barrel full of straw and manure that he had just cleared out from the dead stallion's stall. He was halfway down the aisle leading to the rusty dumpster set outside for just such material. "Hey, Manuel! Paramiso, mi amigo. Uno momentito.." Dusty called out, tossing his black five gallon cowboy hat onto the tack tree hook holding racing bridles as he strode into the dark, fan noise filled barn row.

The tiny old jockey Mexican native turned at his jefe's voice, "Senor Schraeder?" he coughed as he pulled on his cigarette and he rubbed his ripped and soiled T shirt absently with tobacco stained gnarled fingers clean to offer out a handshake of congratulations. "He died fast, no? It is really a seemple thing to kill a horse.."

Dusty immediately backhanded the little man in the face, sending him over the laden wheel barrel onto the shoddily raked earthen floor. "That was sloppy..."

Waste soiled straw spilled onto Manuel as he struggled to his feet in fear. "Senor? Que? No Comprendo !  
I do it good enough. Did he not go down on the final turn?" his cigarette smoke raspy, south of the border voice cracked.

"You imbecile!" Dusty screamed. "I'm not talking about Charismatic! I'm talking about his STALL!.. I'm not smelling any Lasix in here." he said, walking into the decrepid box stall, sniffing the air. "How are we going to prove ourselves innocent of his sudden death if there's no drugs showing up in his p*ss hole?" He angrily drew out a syringe full of the antibleeder from his jacket and bit the needle cover off. He squirted out half in a careless rain into the urine hole at his feet and the rest he injected into the horse's water bucket. "Now I don't wanna have to tell you twice.  
Don't TOUCH that bucket."

"Si, senor, lo ciento.. " Manuel said, immediately recovering his battered L.A. Angels cap from the muck on the floor as he wiped away the blood from the side of his mouth. " The aqua is no toca, si. A-And I not forget the next time about the shots to the dirt like you do now." he said. "Sorry.."

Dusty's anger melted away and he tossed the spent Lasix syringe into Manuel's wheel barrel and helped the shaken man pitchfork its tumbled load back inside of it. Then he drew his crooked groom under one arm.  
"I didn't mean to hit ya, buddy. I....wasn't thinking.  
I hate it when we have to kill a perfectly good horse just for appearances. Let me make amends?" he said,  
pulling out a fat wallet full of cash. He started counting out bills one at a time before the small man's cowering face.

Manuel's toothless grin erupted almost as big as his eyes and he greedily held out his dirty hands for the payment.

Dusty said, "Here. Two hundred for the job. Just like we agreed. And another fifty just for the h*ll of it. You did good my friend. Even your rival Jose's horse, Swale, got hoof clipped into a good fall. Jose was wrecked up bad. He won't be riding for months. Looks like its clear sailing for you AND me. Now go get some ice for your face. And take the night off. I'll finish up here."

Manual scrambled away, mumbling gratitudes and he quickly climbed onto his ramshackle seatless bike and pedalled off for the barn dorms.

Dusty Schraeder knew that by sundown, his way ward groom would be in no condition to talk to the police and track officials he knew would be stopping off in the barn for the standard post mortem stall tests. ::With 250 greenbacks in hand, I doubt Manuel will be sober enough then to even know his own name..:: the evil trainer thought.

Humming contentedly, Dusty made sure his run down operation looked as finely raked and pristine as any other racing barn's on the row. He set his final touch by grabbing some field clover from the patch of weeds under the barn's leaky hose faucet and shoved the yellow blooms into a dusty vase on top of the nearly empty, barely regulation, first aid kit he had hanging next to his barn office door. As an afterthought, he blew the dust off the cock angled giant sized "Warning, extreme fire risk. No smoking." sign that was in bilingual english and spanish anchored on the wall, and straightened it out on its nail. Smiling,  
Dusty polished it to a high shine with his black twill jacket's sleeve.

He went inside to the silty desk to call Swale's owners with a less than glowing report on the horse's condition.

What Dusty did not know, was that Jose' had circumvented any further crooked race deception by his desperate plea for help to a certain, very special,  
horse loving, firefighter paramedic.

--------------------------------------------------------

"Nope.."

"Oh come on, Cap!" Johnny insisted. "Just look at Swale's pedigree! Walter Farley shoved a racing form into my back pocket while we were loading Jose'  
up and now I got all his juicy statistics right here.." he said, drawing out a sandy white booklet of the daily races from where he had shoved it in his belt. "Son to Native Dancer, full brother to Citation himself.. Man, when Swale gets his wind back enough to run ten furlongs again, ..we'll all be RICH !"

Hank Stanley ignored his paramedic's tirade and instead took offense at the fine track dirt festooning the floor and table top near him. "Gage, I said no. Now go grab a towel and a broom and go clean this up!"  
he said shoving back in his kitchen chair and away from all reminders of their morning rescue call. Hank's agitated hands continued to pet Henry the hound dog's back harder and harder absently, until a loud moan of protest floated up from the lazy form sprawled across Cap's lap. "Sorry, Henry. My supposedly polished firefighting men are being bonifide twits again. You know how that irritates the snot outta me.  
Gage, about Swale; that's IF he gets his wind back, not when. To me, that colt looked pretty much three of four hooves boots up into a grave this morning."

"Kelly and Stoker reversed that, Cap, with their wash down. He came outta heatstroke just like that.."  
and Gage snapped his fingers in the air derisively.

"I don't care. Once a horse does down like that, that trainer, what's his name again? Ah, yes, Walter Farley, told me it's five times harder to get him back up onto his feet and into racing condition again!" Hank countered with a slap of his hand on the table. "Count me OUT. Beside, I'm NOT a horse racing fan. Didn't you catch onto any of my attitude towards that this morning, pally?"

Johnny sputtered ineffectual arguments.

Chet smiled and bit his lip in predatory fashion as Johnny Gage clammed up and did what his captain told him to do. But kernels of Johnny's sales pitch had already sprouted under his irish skin and he said. "Cap.. I really think this is an opportunity of a life time. Even for me. And you know how picky I can get about taking on weird deals."

"This is not a weird deal.." Johnny glared at him through pursed lips.

"Sure it is.." Marco Lopez piped up. "I mean,  
just how many firehouses do you know of who get themselves reined into buying a broken down racehorse.."

"He's not broken down.." Johnny hissed at Lopez. "He's still got four good legs on him."

"Yeah? You're forgetting one tiny detail there, Gage."  
Cap said levelly firm with a finger pointing right at his man's nose. "Add THIS fact to his excellent boneleg status. Swale's got one very, very sun cooked BRAIN!" Cap said, drawing crazy circles around his ear for emphasis. He rose to his feet, shoving away the track racing form. "This is the end of this particular discussion with me! Come on, Henry.. Let's go hide in the recliner to get away from these kookheads.. "

Then he took a breath.

"You know.. I should order ya ALL to Rampart for a checkup. Looks like Swale's not the only one who got in a little too much sun today."

Cap hefted up the ample Henry into his arms and stood above the recliner where Mike Stoker was reading behind a newspaper. Cap cleared his throat and Stoker looked absently looked up to see who it was. He hastily vacated the coveted spot in a pico when he saw Cap's expression.

Hank settled in and snatched the section Stoker had been reading for good measure, too. Cap draped Henry onto his lap for maximum comfort and prompted buried himself into the sports page.

Mike Stoker thought about getting his paper back but decided that superior rank ruled. He sighed and took up his usual place at the kitchen table.

Despite things, ten minutes later, Gage had everyone's signature on the stay of execution papers for Swale, except Roy's and Cap's. ::I'm just going to haveta work on those two. Until then, Swale can stay at my place.  
Just as soon as the vet clears him for travel:  
Johnny thought to himself with a pleased thrill.

---------------------------------------------------

Brent Brackett and his wife Anna Rose found their son, Kel Brackett, lurking in the nurse's coffee lounge.

Dixie McCall was with him, and Doctor Morton.  
And they were going over Mary Kenner's private medical case.

The older Bracketts barged in, infected with a healthy case of co-worker etiquette blindness, which abruptly interrupted their confidential conversation.

"Oh, there you are, my dear.." Anna Rose said to Dixie, bending down to leave a kiss on the mortified head nurse's cheek. "I hope you haven't forgotten the important role that Brent and I imparted to you.."

Dixie's fake smile locked in stone. "How could I, Anna Rose? I assure you, I've been thinking about it every second.." she answered truthfully.

"That's good. I'll give you a call you at home tonight for your idea run downs. Kel gave me your number."

Dixie's withering look at Kel made the younger Brackett hold up his hands in defense.

Brent spoke on another matter, now that his wife's concerns had been voiced first. " Kel, I found your rescue base station out there in the hall simply astounding! I must learn more about your emergency department. That's, uh. If Dixie allows me. I can't believe I've been working here for six years without knowing how it all works." he said incredulously.

Kel cracked a smile. "I'm sure that my best intern,  
Mike Morton, here would be more than happy to take you on clinical tours, dad, today and all through the next week."

Morton choked on his donut he had been eating with gusto. Dixie slapped him on the back to get him over it before things got out of hand.

"You all right there, Mike?" Kel said.

"Yeah, *cough* I'm fine, just.. fine. Thanks, Dix."  
Mike Morton took the napkin he had used and crumpled it up onto his paper plate. "Look uh, Kel, are you sure that Joe Early wouldn't make a better tour guide for your parents? I mean he's got far more experience than little ol m--"

Kel shook his head slowly. "Speaking of experience, this will just be another aspect of medicine for you to learn about by catering to local dignitaries." he quipped to the delight of his mother.

It was Mike's turn to wear an expression that didn't match his current emotional status and Dixie felt immediate sympathy for Morton now that he was joining her in misery. She poured him an extra full coffee cup to fortify him.  
"I'll cover the nursing angles." then she said under her breath so only Mike could hear.  
"That way it'll all go that much faster.." she said from the corner of her mouth.

Mike nodded his gratefulness to both the coffee and the offer. "Great..we'll get started tomor--"

"This afternoon..." Kel countered with a smile..

"...this afternoon, Mr. and Mrs. Brackett." Morton amended smoothly without missing a beat.

To Dixie, Mike cracked the biggest toothiest doctor's professional grin that she had ever seen.  
::Oh, boy. He's not happy. But, rank has its privileges. :: she said scratching an itch on her head.  
She cast a dangerous calculating eye on her best friend. :: You know, I think I'll go to medical school after this, just to become a doctor so Kel won't be able to pull one over on me or my staff anymore.::

To Dixie's chagrin, Kel was obvious to her discomforture.

Soon, the elder Bracketts left for a late snack to the cafeteria and talk resumed about Mary Kenner,  
the woman jockey.

Mike said. "Her ABG levels in that hand are simply perfect, Kel. She came through that immediate surgery of yours with flying colors."

Kel frowned and shifted in his lounge chair,  
sighing. "Yeah, but that's just one of her problems solved. I'm concerned about her continued paralysis..."

Mike blinked. "Why? Her x-rays are showing clear. There's no fractures anywhere along her spine. She doesn't even have disk misalignment. Seems to me that her paraplegic deficit might be temporary just due to swelling from hyperflexing her back when she landed on top of that track railing. You did tell me Roy found her hanging there."

Kel answered. "Mike, you know how these things go.  
I've seen patients who have whole vertebrae completely shattered in two, three places who eventually get up and walk again. And then there are cases like Mary Kenner's..." and he let his comment hang in the air.

A feeling of subtle depression filled the room.

A few moments later, Mike's irrepressible optimism on things he knew little about gushed out. "The steroidal treatments will work for her. The anesthesiologist said he saw a few foot twitches when he was extubating her. And I believe what he saw."

"Let's hope you're right.." Dixie whispered.

----------------------------------------------

Photo : Dix and Kel Brackett talk over lunch.

Photo : Dusty Schraeder with $$$.

Photo: Guys reading in kitchen.

Photo: Cap's lecture look.

Photo : John making a point in the kitchen.

*********************************** From: "rampartbase" Date: Sat, 15 Mar 2003 04:12:30 -0000 Subject: [EmergencyTheaterLive] Foiled Again! Dixie finally gave up and suggested Catalina Island. "That sounds like an interesting place." Anna Brackett said. Dix just nodded. "We can leave tomorrow. You're such a dear." Anna hugged Dix.

The next day, the trio of Bracketts met at the dock for the 26 mile boat ride. They boarded with the rest of the passengers and the boat left as scheduled. Somewhere out at sea, the boat ran into trouble. One of the engines started smoking.

----------------------------------------

Photo: None.

*  
From : "JOHN ALLEN" Subject :[EmergencyTheaterLive] Horses, Ferrys and Fire, Oh my! Date :Mon, 17 Mar 2003 08:36:53 +0000

This is a tandem post by John Allen  
and Patti Keiper via live brainstorming and mutual research on the web.  
Dusty Schraeder exited his track camper and strode to the nearby parking lot payphone under the row of palm trees over looking his horse barn. ::Man, this sure ain't San Antonio, Texas. Hotter than grits on a griddle today.  
I hate Californ-I-A. With a passion.::

He dialed a number, as he slapped on expensive aftershave. "Artie? It's done. And it looks like Jose Rivero's on the outlist for three months, too.  
You owe me more for that."

Dusty listened as the mafia man's voice warbled in his ear for a moment. "No, man. I'm through. There's enough police sniffing around my operation as it is..You want another horse killed do it yourself.  
I've got a boat to catch this afternoon." And he slammed down the phone receiver in irritation. "I hate Italians.  
They should stick to drinking bad wine and twirling pasta on their spoons!"

------------------------------------------------------

Kel Brackett and Anna Rose stood by the railing of the Windjammer Ferry bound for Catalina Island.

"Oh, Kel. Remind me to thank Dixie for this.  
I don't think we've been to this island all the time you were growing up." Anna Rose sighed, breathing in the rich salt tanged air ruffling her auburn hair.

Kel and Brent exchanged a look of confidential tolerance at Mrs. Brackett, intensely glad that a destination for their vacation had finally taken shape.

Brent drew both Kel and Anna Rose under both arms in an uncharacteristic show of guarded affection, and said. "I'm glad we can get together for this. Glad that d*mned snowstorm changed our minds.. I could get used to trips like this.."

Kel smiled. "Dix has a knack for landing ANYone on their feet."

"Even us?" Brent quipped.

"Apparently, even us."

Anna Rose beamed at Brent and Kel widely and said. "Let's go get some champagne to celebrate. Shall we?"

"Celebrate what, mom?" Kel asked wrapping her sky blue sweater more tightly around her to stave off the brisk seabreeze coming from the south.  
She could just see the wild beach of the graceful desert island less than a quarter mile away from them.

"You have to ask? Isn't it obvious?"  
Anna Rose asked in return peering up at her taller son.

Brent chuckled deep in his throat and adjusted his white golfer's hat more firmly onto his head. "Anna Rose, leave off. Kelly's here to unwind. No surgical wards, no Dixie to come calling with medical matters,  
no Rampart. He's finally on foreign territory for the first time in years. In more ways than one."

Kel grunted, but deigned to comment.  
He sighed grandly and said. "I sure am.  
But I'm sure glad I'm here. Listen, hang around for a few minutes. I'm going to go get those drinks for us. Be right back.."

Anna Rose and Brent Brackett watched him bound up the deck stairway to the upper level and the open air bar above, with a new energy she had never noticed before.

Seabirds fluttered down over their heads and glowed in the azure sky, only increasing the Bracketts sense of contentment and peace.

But then, Anna Rose's nose crinkled suddenly in distain. "Dearest, do you smell that?"

"Smell what?"

-----------------------------------------

On the Windjammer's bridge, the captain's internal phone rang.

"This is the Bridge.."

##Sir.. we have a problem...##

"Specify.."

The engineer below decks coughed once and lifted the receiver from his mouth and shouted. "Get more coolant on that port turbine! She's still running too hot!!" then he thought angrily. The ferry engineer saved a few choice mental words for the Santa Anita track trainer and entrepreneur and spit sharply onto the metal grating beneath his feet. :: D*mn Dusty Schraeder for cutting our budget spending on transport servicing. Shoulda hauled her up to dry dock months ago for a complete overhaul. When I get to shore again, I'm gonna...::

BOOM!!

The Windjammer shuddered as the sudden engine explosion beneath her passenger crowded decks shifted in massive concussion.

The Captain on the bridge shouted. "Mr.  
Margolin! Get down there and see how badly we've been damaged!"

"Aye, sir.." said the ferry's first officer, and he gestured to two fellow officers to follow him down below decks to the engine room.

The ferry captain's right hand nestled onto a little used switch on his natical tactical board and he pulled it. The universal mariner's distress call.

------------------------------------

Kel was sent sprawling off his bar stool where he sat waiting for his order of champagne for three.

He was thrown with terrific force into the deck plating and the impact made him bite his tongue badly. In wracking pain and bleeding copiously from his mouth, Dr. Brackett lifted his head as he saw smoke billowing from the rear end of the ferry. A careless wind sent a cloud of suffocating bad air into the bar deck, and visibility shrank down to nil in seconds. "Everybody, drop down on the deck! There's clear air down here!"  
::Mom, dad. Oh, be safe..:: he thought.

Kel helped one shaken young woman, dazed from where her head had impacted a fallen table, to her feet and together, they fled towards the direction of the stairs they could barely see and back into daylight.  
::What the h*ll happened down there?::

In the murk he spied a big Texan man, lolling on the deck, semi conscious, with a black cowboy hat covering his face. "Hey, mister! You ok?" Kel asked the fallen man, shoving the crushed hat away.  
He could see a large bruise on his head.  
::Might be a concussion.:: he reasoned.

Dusty Schraeder moaned and opened his eyes under Kel's ministrations. "Oww.. *cough* what in tarnation is going on?!"

"There's been an explosion below decks. We gotta get outta here. This smoke's getting thicker." Dr. Brackett said. "I'm a doctor and there may be more injured people outside. Can you stand?"

"Can a racehorse run?" Dusty said.

"Fine. Let's move out." Kel ordered. He hefted the southern man to his feet and pointed him in the direction to where he knew the stairs were.

-----------------------------------------------

L.A. Dispatcher Sam Lanier coordinated the data he was receiving from the Coast Guard Communications Network and decided a course of action to handle the bounding casualty estimates streaming through his terminal from the Harbor Master on Duty. Then he toggled out the tones.  
A long string of call signs and finally the fire disaster LCR's rang out across the county's telecom relay system and into the firehouses linked to it.  
## Station 110, Waterboat 245, Battalion 14,  
Coast Guard 9, Helicopter 8, Station 51, Marina Cutter 27, Lifeguard 16. Ferry fire. One mile off Catalina Island. All fire units respond to LAX heliport. Time out, 11: 45.##

Cap sidled out from under Henry and shot to his feet.  
"Let's go. Move it out.."

"Sounds like a bad one.." Chet mumbled as he ran to the rig and hurriedly pulled on his turnout gear. "But why call out the engine, too? Gage and DeSoto usually get the ocean runs."

" It's a catastrophic all call, Kelly. Remember those tones.  
This must be a grade four multiple casualty for us to respond as well." Cap said, climbing aboard the Ward. Stoker and the others filed into place and soon, the station rolled out.

On the way, Johnny cut the tension by talking of other matters. "Hey, Roy, guess what?"

Roy, deep into watching traffic as they sped towards the airport, barely afforded Gage a glance as he grunted, "Hmm?"

"Wanna play altruistic and kill two birds with one stone?"

"Whatdiya mean?" Roy said, gripping the steering wheel and speaking loudly over the wailing siren above their heads.

Johnny tightened the strap on his helmet and smiled.  
"Well, first thing. We go ahead and buy Swale. You heard Crockett. I just may have agreed to a verbal shift of ownership with Jose Rivero the jockey.."

"What do you mean we?" Roy said frankly. "I wasn't in on that little deal you two struck up, now was I?  
Washing my hands clean of that so you can just forget it. Joanne would never forgive me if I tapped into what little savings we have."

"Roy, just forget about that for a sec, you're forgetting we still have impressive collateral right at our fingertips.."  
he grinned.

"Where?"

"In that old engine we have fading in the sun out back.  
Kind of a shame we never found Mr. Kerner the buyer that day. Here's our opportunity to do a good deed with it."

Roy's face started to smile even as the squad rounded into the gateway being opened for their vehicles onto the airport tarmack by LAX security. "What, then? You and Mr. Farley go into the stud business?"

"No man, nothing so selfish. I wish you'd just think for once. I'm talking about that young gal we worked on at the track. What was her name?"

"Mary Kenner.."

"Yeah, her. It just tears me up that her filly had to be destroyed. What would you think about us giving her and Jose Rivero all of Swale's ownership shares?"  
Gage asked.

Roy blinked as he pulled up into the space reserved for fire vehicles along the marine jetty fence line.  
"Johnny Gage turning into a bonafide do gooder? I can't even begin to imagine that. But.. I have to admit.. I'm really warming up to the idea.."

"Then sign.." Gage said, thrusting papers out at Roy that he had folded inside his shirt and shouting into the violent wind coming from the landing pad just in front of their bumper.

"We're in the middle of responding to a run here!"  
Roy said incredulously, squealing to a halt and jamming the squad's transmission into park.

"SoOoooo, the faster you sign the faster we can get out of here.." Gage countered over the roar of Helicopter 8's rotor wash as he opened the door and handed out the ownership signup form and his green pen out to his partner.

Roy grabbed the sheet, John Handcocked it, and shoved it back inside the squad before closing the door. "What about Cap's signature?"

"I got his after lunch in the only place where I could think of to corner him on equal ground.  
In the john.."

"You haven't a shred of human decency, pally, you know that?" Roy DeSoto rolled his eyes.

"Probably not. But I get results when I want em."

They had grabbed all the gear into the squad stokes when another set of hands grabbed one end of the stretcher in their run towards the helicopter and the waiting coast guard pilots.

"Detective Crockett.. What are you doing here?"  
Roy asked, as he almost dropped the stokes and the equipment in surprise.

Gage double blinked, too.

Detective Crockett said. "Got word you fellas were on a run to the Windjammer. I've a vested interest in that ferry. I've been ordered to come along."

"Oh, why?" Gage said as he and Roy slipped into lifevests and headsets in the belly of the coast guard bird.

"Do you remember Dusty Shraeder at all? That fine upstanding gentleman your jockey friend from the track was dead set on chewing up and spitting out, despite his injuries?" he quipped sarcastically.

"Oh, him.. " Gage said with displeasure, light bulb going off. "So that's his name. I remember now. He was kinda shady and slimy like, if I recall.."

"In more ways than one. Not only is he dealing with negligent racehorse fraud, he's dabbling in the ferry business too. His company was cited for five maintenance violations on that boat alone this season."

Gage nodded. Then he toggled his headset to the pilots. "Helicopter 8, This is Squad 51. We're aboard. Dave, what do we got?"

" Squad 51, We've a 250 passenger boat bound for Catalina. And her captain reports her engine's caught fire.  
The first responding Coast Guard cutter reports she's already nearly fully involved astern."

"Was she at capacity?" Roy interceded into the radio frequency through his own radio set.

"No, only to one third according to the Harbor Master."

"Understood." DeSoto said. ::More than enough reason for the fire engine crews to come along with us..::

Roy glanced down out the window as the Coast Guard chopper lifted off the landing pad. He could see Cap, and the rest of the gang piling into Waterboat 245 along with Station 110's crack marine fire team.  
::No doubt they'll be joining us on that fire boat for the secondary assignment once we've handled the main evacuation.::

---------------------------------------------

Cap lifted his HT. "Engine 51 to Helicopter 8."

##Go ahead, Engine 51.##

"Our ETA to site is thirty minutes."

## 10-4, 51. ##

Cap grinned and patted each of his men on the back as they boarded the swift hulled coast guard cutter. "Time to get your feet wet, boys. "

Chet eyed the big, bobbing red and white boat suspiciously. "Aw, Cap, do I have to? I just got done polishing my shoes."

"Get in there.." Cap mock growled, giving Kelly a shove across the short plank leading from shore to the sleek rescue coast guard Crestliner.

Marco strapped into the life vest a guardsman handed him and he asked. "Hey, Cap. Just how many oceanic runs have you logged in your day? I take it disaster calls like this aren't common."

"You're right. I've only seen three. This is my third. Just consider it a four alarm, gang. The only difference is that any firefighting will be completely on a horizontal plane instead of a vertical one and the hosework will be trickier because the waves will be shifting us up and down on the boat's deck. We're only going to be cover for 110's marine firemen. Remember that. Do whatever they ask of you in full support."

"Right, Cap."

Soon, Waterboat 245, loaded with 110 and 51's firemen, sped out to sea after the disappearing Chopper 8.

------------------------------------------------------

Kel Brackett helped Dusty Schraeder out to open air and he shouted to the panicking, singed people around him, handing out lifevests from inside the railing benches, when he saw the ferry's employees doing the same.  
"Everybody, get set to jump overboard! The beach is right there.."

Casting his eyes around the milling crowd, Kel fought through them as best he could, spitting out the blood in his mouth while he searched for any sign of either of his parents while he put on a life vest and found three others.

"You rest there.. I'll be back for you.." Kel gasped through the smoke at Dusty, whom he parked onto a deck chair reluctantly. Giving the dazed man another glance, Dr.  
Brackett fought his instincts to stay and help the injured around him and he forced himself to listen to the new ones of panic he felt growing inside of him about his family.

"Mom! Dad!! Can you hear me?!"

A thick oily curtain of burning haze swept over the deck and felled seven in a suffocating grip.

Kel stumbled, choking on the stench in his throat and he crawled over to the nearest body and pulled it to the windward side of the deck by feel alone.

On the fourth trip with a victim, his seeking hand found his father, unconscious and face down. "Dad..!!" His fingers found that he had a pulse and that he was still breathing. Immediately Kel's head shot up. ::She would never leave his side like this..:: "Mom!"

"Kel?" she gasped from very nearby.

"Over here.." he coughed. "Put this on.."  
he handed Anna Rose one of the three life vests he still had with him and quickly tied one around his father.

He dragged Brent over to where he could hear the ferry personnel helping people into the water for the desperate swim to the wave dashed shoreline of Catalina Island.

He snapped out an order. "Don't send a swimmer with this man until I get back.." he ordered one lieutenant, pointing down to his father. "I am going to go get a victim with a head injury. Then we'll leave."

Kel took a breath of the relatively clean air by the railing on the island side of the burning ferry and turned to go back to Dusty Schraeder whom he had left behind.

Anna Rose stopped him. "No, Kel. Don't leave us! You'll never make it out again.." she sobbed.

"I'll be fine. He's not that far away." Dr. Brackett said as he looked up and saw the fast approaching outline of a coast guard cutter making a rapid headway from the island's small resort jetty over to their ferry. "Just stay with dad."

Kel disappeared, crawling back into the dark smoke of the inner deck.

-------------------------------------------------

Roy and Johnny couldn't see the ferry.  
Just a column of black greasy smoke coming from the wounded boat almost hugging the shoreline. Roy thought,  
::The engineer's must have shifted the rudders to allow her to drift towards shore.  
Smart thinking.::

Then John saw startling colored dots floating in the water. He tapped his partner on the shoulder. "Roy, they're already abandoning ship!"

Roy spoke calmly into his radio headset. "Most look ok. I'm just concerned about the ones who are hurt and not able to swim away from that boat.."

Gage didn't say anything more and both paramedics and Detective Crockett were silenced by the horrifying drama unfolding like a silent movie, before them.

##Squad 51, we are touching down. You are to disembark with your equipment and report to Cutter 27 docked starboard on the jetty for your rendevous to the Windjammer. ##

"10-4, Chopper Eight."

The massive Coast Guard helicopter hovered only inches from the rough stoney pier that was already jammed with newly responding fireboats taking in sea water into their bilges to combat the ferry's burgeoning fire.

Two minutes later, Roy and Johnny were fast footing it with the gear laden stokes between them down the rocky pier towards the landing set aside for Coast Guard's slips at the very end. Crockett had donned a coastguard jumpsuit, complete with his fire arm, and was running close after them.

Johnny could see two vessels were waiting and idling with their prows aimed seaward.

Gage immediately turned for the sixty foot fireboat. A shout stopped him. "51. Over here.." came a voice.

Roy and Johnny turned. A guardsman on an eighteen foot red painted outboard was gesturing for them to come over to him.

Gage's eyes got real big. "Oh, man.. Roy.  
We're going on THAT thing?"

Roy cracked a grin. "Still don't trust yourself from the last time out at sea?"

"Hardly."

"Well, you might not get seasick this time,  
pally. There'll be no masts for us to climb."  
Ferrys don't have any." Roy said.

"Hope you're right.." Johnny groaned.

Soon, DeSoto and Gage were heading out in the speedy outboard towards the column of rising soot marking the place of the sea ferry's self consuming fire.

------------------------------------------------

Kelly Brackett found the large Texan coughing on the deck chair. "Mister.  
Let's go. I've got a life vest here for you.  
Easy.." he said as he flung one of the groggy man's arms over his shoulder to help him gain his feet. "This way.."

The wind shifted mercifully, showing the doctor that the Windjammer's decks were now empty of people except for a few near the gap in the railing where his father lay.

Dr. Brackett and Dusty Schraeder had covered half the distance to the opening in the railing when the Windjammer's fuel tanks compromised.

A great force lifted both men up and flung them outwards from the main bulk of the boat as a massive exploding fireball signalled the beginning of the end for the hull breached ferry.

The Windjammer listed twenty degrees to her side, towards land, and Dusty and Kel Brackett slid struggling, across the oily deck, each partially stunned by the blast.

Rushing towards the ferry, Roy and John and Crockett winced as the Windjammer blew herself apart.

On the front of the flying debris,  
a body was hurtled into the sea.

"Move it move it!! To portside.  
Ten o'clock!! Someone just landed in the water!! " Gage shouted.

Cutter 27 knifed through the waves to where the paramedics had last seen the man go down.

The boat circled the area once,and the impact rings were fast fading in the ocean's regular toss and turn.

"Where is he?!" Roy shouted.

"There. There. Right there!" Crockett said, pointing suddenly to the left.

Gage and DeSoto jumped feet first into the water from the cutter with the empty stokes. They swam rapidly to the slowly sinking man and hauled his face out of the water.

They struggled to pull their victim into the stokes long enough for the rescue boat to come forward for a pickup. Crockett and the guardsmen had only just hauled the sodden man aboard and had rolled him over when the detective exclaimed. "Schraeder!!"

Gage, regained his footing on the boat's rear loading platform, was helped on board. "Who?"

A low moan came from the cut riddled Texan in the stokes as Roy bent down to check the injured man's mental status.

"It's Dusty Schraeder from the horse track. My team and I got enough evidence to arrest this guy this morning on charges of animal cruelty and reckless endangerment."  
Crockett said.

"THIS is the guy our jockey was so keen on taking out?" Gage asked.

"Yeah.. Walter Farley tipped us off on his Lasix misusage and led us to some eyewitnesses who saw exactly what Dusty and a groom named Manuel did to Charismatic, the colt that caused the pileup. A little dumpster diving found the missing unused Lasix syringes they had been throwing away and their barn's ID serial number was labelled all over them."

"Means and motive.." Roy sighed.  
"He's ok, Johnny. A bump on the head and no signs of aspiration."  
DeSoto said, lifting his stethoscope from the man's chest.

"I'll get him on some O2."

Right then, Dusty Schraeder groaned and started stirring. He awoke to a grinning Crockett's face. "Whaa? What are you doing here? Didn't you get enough of me investigating my horse barn?" the angry man asked of the detective.

"More than enough. You're under arrest,  
Mr. Schraeder.." and he slapped on handcuffs around Dusty's wrists. "I'll say,  
your racing days are over.."

Dusty Schraeder promptly passed out.

Johnny happened to glance up back then to a commotion from the Windjammer.

Anna Rose Brackett and a ferry worker was crouched over a soot stained figure lying on the deck. "Johnny ! Roy! Over here.. My husband and son! They're hurt!"

The cutter crew swiftly darted the remaining distance to the gutted Windjammer whose fire had blown itself mostly out. Roy and Gage quickly accepted pulling hands to come on board and their gear quickly followed.

Roy knelt by Kel Brackett and began to check him out even as Gage did the same thing for the unconscious Brent Brackett.

Johnny glanced up at Anna Rose.  
"You ok, Mrs. Brackett?"

"Y- Yes.. The guardsman shoved me down and the explosion went over our heads. H-how are they?"

Roy spoke up. "I've got a good carotid."

"Same over here." Johnny said,  
bending down to check Brent's pupils for reaction time. "So far so good."

Right then, Brent and Kel both groaned and started to awaken.

"Easy, doc.." Gage said. "Docs.." he amended with a grin. "Just lie still,  
both of ya, and let Roy and I check ya out."

Kel Brackett winced and rolled over to spit out the blood pooling in his mouth.  
"What about the fire..?"

Gage turned and glanced over his shoulder. "That last explosion sure did a little number. Blew out the fire and exposed a wanted criminal to the local authorities as well." Johnny quipped.

"Huh?" Brent Brackett grunted.

"Never mind. It would take too long to explain it to ya." Roy said, getting two cannulas of 02 set for their patients. "But I can tell ya that it's all for the good."

"Doc.. you feeling better?" John asked when he realized Dr. Brackett had an actively bleeding tongue.

"I will be. Just get me off this smoking hulk.  
I've had enough of vacations to last me a lifetime.." he sighed.

"Just don't swallow any of that."

"Don't I know it.."

"Do I need to get your permission to treat you an--"

"Don't ask. Just do."

"Right."

Waterboat 245 with the high pressured water cannons, and the rest of Station 51 and Station 110, soon arrived to board Windjammer along with a ferry to take the beach survivors back to the mainland.

Cap and Chet strode over to where Roy and Johnny were setting up IVs on Brent, Kel and Dusty in prep for Chopper Eight's multiple airlift maneuver for their transport.

The captain of 110's stepped forward and started barking orders. "Let's get these casualties stabilized ASAP. I want everyone off deck in ten minutes! Station 51, go below and check for petroleum leaks. Last thing we need is an ecological catastrophe on top of everything else."

Hank Stanley, Chet, Marco, and Mike Stoker all hurried with him to quickly check out the damage left behind from the explosion snuffed fire.

-----------------------------------------

Kel Brackett, Brent Brackett Jose Rivero and Mary Kenner were all sharing a room at Rampart because of limited space arrangements that were currently in effect. Only a curtain separated jockeys from doctors.

Johnny Gage, Roy DeSoto and Walter Farley were visiting the jockey side.

Johnny was beaming ear to ear, as was his quiet partner, when Walter Farley gently took Mary Kenner's hand. "Mary.  
How are ya doing. You awake? Some friends of mine are here to see you on a matter of business.."

"Mr. Farley?" she said, opening her eyes. "You came.. Jose and I didn't think you'd be able to come today because of the stakes races going on." she said. Then she recognized Roy. "Mr. DeSoto.  
I've some good news for you. The doctors are saying that I will walk again. It's going to take some time and a lot of therapy, they tell me. But I'm more than up for the challenge."

"Well, that's good Miss Kenner, because the guys and I have another challenge for you to work on."  
Roy said to her, smiling.

Walter Farley stepped forward and pulled the bundle of leather he had been hiding behind his back.

For a moment Mary's face twisted with the memory of her filly going down the day of her accident. But then her eyes fell on the brass name plate on the bridle's cheek strap.  
"Oh, my g*d. This says Swale? Mr. Farley.  
what is this?"

Johnny said, "Well, Jose came up with the plan and the rest of us guys at the station house made it possible with ...well, a small donation up front.  
for this.." and he stepped forward to hand over Swale's signed and delivered ownership papers and pedigree.  
Again Mary's eyes fell on the short list of names of the colt's sole shareholders. She read them aloud. "Titled owners of Swale. 2 year old. Bay colt are hereby declared as Mary Kenner of Anaheim and Jose Rivero of Independence City in the state of California, United States of--"

Her voice cracked when she realized the implications of what she was reading. "You didn't.."

"We sure did Miss, Kenner. " Walter Farley grinned along with the two paramedics flanking him.  
"Swale now belongs to a jockey team of two. Utterly. Including all future stud rights and purse winnings from here on out."

Mary's eyes filled with tears and she regarded the sleeping Jose on the bed next to her briefly in thought. " We can't accept him.. I.  
well, Jose and I can't afford to keep a racehorse.  
We don't have the facilities off track."

Walter Farley spoke up. "Not necessarily true young lady. You see, The Dusty Schraeder Racing Stables have declared bankruptcy due to extenuating circumstances. Heh. heh heh. The track now has fifteen stalls set aside for me to fill. And Swale.. now has one of them."

"Oh, Mr. Farley.." she sobbed. "I'm sure if Jose were awake right now. He'd also thank you from the bottom of his heart. And I thank you firefighters, too, for everything."

"Our pleasure ma'am.." Roy said quietly.  
"Well, we'd better be going. Take care and send us a post card once in a while from the racing circuit."

"I will.." she promised.

-  
Anna Rose sat at the foot of Brent Brackett's bed and held his hand. "Brent, now you know you and Kel still have plenty of vacation time accrued. I've been thinking about this alot.  
Now I've talked with a very nice young man named Morton downstairs and he swears up and down about spending a week in Hawaii..On Maui to be exact. Now, what do you say?"

Brent grunted and chuckled, holding a pillow over his aches. "I've seen enough islands to last me until I'm ninety, Anna Rose. And I'm sure our only son agrees with me."

"I concur most wholeheartedly, dad. How about another six years of us just working, straight through."

"Sounds just peachy.." Brent smiled.

Anna Rose's face fell in complete and utter dismay.  
"Oh, now that's not fair. That solves your needs.  
What about mine?"

"Well, you can always go to school to become a nurse and then come work with us.." Kel quipped.

"Oh, you.. Dixie would never agree to that.. and you know it."

Right then, Dixie walked in the door with the medications for everyone in the room.  
"I'd never agree to what, Anna Rose..?"

"Oh,.. uh,, nothing.." she said.

-----------------------------------------------

In the squad, returning to base, Roy and Johnny Gage had reason to smile.  
Gage stretched languidly in his seat and said. "I feel really good about what happened to us over the past two weeks, don't you?"

"I know what you mean. What we did was a really noble thing I think. Saved : One horse and two careers. Nice totals, Johnny."

"Yeah, " Gage smirked. "So, did you learn your lesson about betting on the horses?"

"How do you mean?" DeSoto said, turning into the station's drive. The garage door opened to reveal that the engine had gone on a run.

"Roy, how can you be so blind?" Gage said in exasperation. "Horse racing is all a matter of integrity, right across the board. It's not a game. Never was."

Roy studied the steering wheel and the sunlight dappling there. "I suppose you're right, Johnny. I-I do feel kinda different about it all now."

"Good going, I'm proud of ya, Junior."

Roy's face split into a gentle grin and he shyly glanced at Gage. "If you say so, pally.. Come on, let's hurry. Maybe Cap and the others left our hamburgers in the oven. I'm starved."

"Oh yeah, that reminds me.. Did we remember to get more dogfood for Henry?"Johnny asked.

"Yeah, and you can count on this fact. It's not horsemeat."

FIN :)

-----------------------------------------

Photo: Angry Dusty.

Photo: Catalina Island and Ferry.

Photo: An ocean ferry fully involved.

Photo : Coastguard helicopter and fireboat.

Photo: Crockett and Johnny in cahoots.

Photo: Station 51 boarding a Coast Guard cutter.

Photo : Frogman reaching for lifevested victim in sea.

Photo : Johnny and Roy rescuing Dusty from the sea.

Photo: Mary Kenner and Swale very happy.

Photo : Roy confiding to Johnny about feelings.

Photo: Henry loafing.

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